Through The Darkness
by rxn
Summary: A brief moment in a dark hallway...    No clue where this is going yet, if anywhere! Any and all reviews and suggestions welcome!
1. Chapter 1

Hermione gasped as her back hit the cold wall behind her, a pair of strong hands on her shoulders keeping her firmly in place. Despite not being able to see in the dark hallway, she immediately recognized the body that stepped closer into her, radiating warmth that completely contrasted the feel of the wall behind her. He gave her only a moment, listening as she let out a deep breath and her body relaxed under his touch, before his lips found hers. There was no hesitance on her part as the wand she had been holding slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the ground beside her. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she pulled at his body until he took another step closer to her, practically pinning her against the wall.

The kiss parted for only a second; giving them enough time to catch their breaths before her mouth eagerly sought his out. She didn't want to stop. The time they found together was little, and she intended on making the most out of it. One of his hands slid down to her waist, wrapping an arm around her back to pull her body flat against his as the other snaked back through her hair, holding the back of her head in place. Now that he finally had her, he didn't want to let her go. He longed for this, the moments where he could claim her as his own were few and far between. He needed this, to touch her, to feel her pressed against him, to know that she was truly his.

As their lips broke apart, she took in a deep breath as her chest expanded against his. With his palm flat against her lower back, he held her close as his head turned away, his lips brushing carefully along the curve of her jaw as he used his other hand to maneuver her head in a way that would gain him more access to the skin he so desired. He could feel her hands slide over his shoulders before dragging down his chest and hooking under his arms, gripping at the material of the back of his shirt.

"I've missed you," she whispered as she pulled herself closer into his chest, his own fingers digging into her lower back as a silent reciprocation of her statement. He had missed her, more than she would ever realize.

When his mouth pressed just below her earlobe, Hermione's head tilted back against the wall, her eyes shut as a soft moan escaped her lips. He had quickly learned the ways to get to her in their little midnight rendezvous. Their together had never been substantial enough to fully act on their desires, just build the up to extremes that Hermione sometimes found to be intolerable. When she was with him, nothing else mattered. No one else was there. All she could focus on was the feel of his warm body against hers.

A soft whimper escaped her lips and her eyes shot open when he drew back from her, a warm hand quickly covering her mouth to stifle the sounds. Hermione was confused, gazing up at the figure whom she could barely even make out in the dark. It wasn't until she heard the loudening sounds of footsteps that she realized just what had happened. His body leaned back into hers, his mouth lingering so close to her ear that the feel of his breath against her skin was giving her goosebumps. As she closed her eyes, she nodded slightly against the hand that still covered her mouth.

"This is no position for the head girl to be caught in," he whispered in her ear so quietly that she barely even heard it.

He was right. This wouldn't look good. She had worked too long and too hard to throw it away. How quickly she forgot about the world and threw consequences out the window when he was around. When he touched her, nothing seemed to matter. He made her reckless. Forgetful. He pulled her out of reality, if only for the few moments that they had together. He slowly drew his head back, and despite the darkness, she could feel his gaze on her.

The footsteps walked quickly past them, the door at the end of the hall opening to allow light in. Enough light that, despite being hidden in a dark corridor, Hermione Granger could easily make out the strands of blonde hair that fell into Draco Malfoy's haunting grey eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco's eyes never left hers. What little light made it to them was enough for him to see everything he needed in those gorgeous brown eyes that stared back at him. When the sound of footsteps had disappeared, and the threat was presumably over, he let his hand slowly slip from her mouth, his fingertips lingering gently over her lips before falling to her waist. She was close enough that, if he couldn't feel her breath on his skin, he could definitely feel her chest moving.

Swallowing hard, Hermione found herself licking her lips as her arms slowly slid back up to snake around Draco's neck. "It was probably Neville," she whispered, speaking of her appointed partner. He was patrolling the halls, as was she. Well, as she was supposed to be doing. As she had been doing before he had caught her.

Draco only nodded in silent agreement.

Closing her eyes, Hermione took a deep breath before uttering the words she dreaded. "I should go."

It broke her every time she had to leave him, or he had to walk away from her. It seemed almost pointless, really. So much had changed over the past seven years that her return to Hogwarts to complete their last year seemed almost…ridiculous. How could one return to taking notes and doing homework when they had, just a few months ago, been at the very brink of death? When they had all lost so many that they had cared for? How could one simply return to being a student, a child, after the innocence was ripped out of them? There were days where she could barely walk through the halls without imagining the bodies that had once been laying there. The initial excitement of returning to Hogwarts had, over the past couple of months, turned into the gruesome memories of the war that had been waged.

Leaning in close, Draco lifted his head so his lips pressed against her forehead. He closed his eyes as his fingers gently massaged the back of her head, his other arm wrapping around her waist to hug him against his chest. "I know," he muttered, and if his lips hadn't been moving, she probably would not have even known to listen. His words did nothing to comfort her, only cause her to shut her eyes tighter and her fingers to twist even more tightly into his shirt.

A soft sigh escaped Draco's lips as he felt her grip tighten, and he let his hand fall from her hair to wrap fully around her. Leaving her was hard, every single time, because he never knew when he would get to hold her again, when they would get to be alone. Their daily interactions consisted mainly of nods of acknowledgement as they passed through the halls or a slight smile when they thought no one was looking. To anyone on the outside, it would look like a silent confirmation, the same kind shared between all those who fought the battle and survived to roam the halls of Hogwarts.

"You've need to go." It killed him to be the strong one, but he knew that tonight, the duty would fall upon him. As his grip on her released, he found himself kneeling down in front of him as he lifted the discarded wand, reaching out with his free hand to take hers and slipping the wand between her fingers. "I'm sure there are some third years who just discovered the closets," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

Hermione smiled as she looked up at him. Sometimes, she could not believe that this was the same boy who had taunted her for the past few years. The boy who she had loathed and despised for being cold, cruel and heartless was showing her a warmth that she had never expected. That she could never have imagined.

Tucking her wand into her pocket, Hermione reached up and cupped his face between her hands as she leaned up on her tip toes and pressed her lips softly against his. Draco's hands rested on her hips, his eyes closing as he leaned in slightly just before she pulled away. With her forehead resting against his, he opened his eyes slowly to look into hers. She was smiling. Even if he couldn't see her lips, he could see it in her eyes.

"Tomorrow," she stated softly, her hands leaving his face to rest on his shoulders as she lowered herself back to her normal height.

Draco stepped back as he watched Hermione walk away from him and deeper into the hallway that she had previously been patrolling. When she stopped and turned, he raised an eyebrow curiously as he watched her turn towards him and smile before raising her hand in a wave goodbye. Raising his own hand, he returned the gesture before both his hands slipped into his pockets, a smile forming on his own lips as she hurried out, probably looking to catch up with Neville.

Hermione Granger would never back out of her responsibilities and Draco Malfoy would never want to be the one who pushed her to do so. To change who she was. He had a moment with her and it had been enough. The promise was there. The promise of tomorrow.

Listening quietly as her footsteps disappeared into the night, he paused a moment before stepping back into the hallway, moving in the opposite direction to retreat back to the Slytherin dorms for the night. The thought of the promise was the reason behind the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

Tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco Malfoy did not belong.

Throughout his years at Hogwarts, Draco had always taken pride in being a Slytherin. In fact, he had always regarded himself as being a rather important one at that. His peers had respected him, and while he had known deep down that this was a result of his parents' statuses more than anything he had done, he had always enjoyed the feeling that he mattered. He had always felt as though he was at home in the dormitory, safe even, while surrounded by people who were like him. Or rather, like he was raised to be.

Not anymore.

The change had not been sudden. It had started during their sixth year. While his friends had proudly followed their parents, regurgitating their beliefs without putting any thought of their own into it, Draco had always felt doubt towards what had been going on around them; what had been forced upon him as a birth right of sorts. Draco always felt reluctant when it came to his parents decisions, questioning if he himself agreed with Voldemort. He never voiced this, though, for he knew that it would have been suicide. Despite disagreeing with what was taking place, Draco knew that he had no choice but to follow. Rejecting the Dark Lord would have isolated him from everyone – his parents, his friends and the entire Slytherin house. He would have had nothing.

As Draco made his way quietly down the dimply lit hallways of Hogwarts, he couldn't help but think about the moments he had shared with Hermione and it brought a slight smile to his face. Never would he have imagined that they would have found themselves in such a position, not because she was a 'filthy mudblood', but because she was a genuinely good person. She was kind and caring and he...well, he was Draco Malfoy, although that name no longer meant what it used to.

Muttering the password, he waited for the doors to open as he stepped inside the familiar common room where he had spent a majority of his teenage years. It no longer felt the way it used to, though. A few people lingered in the room, and he could hear the sudden hushed voices that filled the air and the eyes that were following his movements. He was used to it, looking up to see eyes on him. Some were filled with fear, others with disgust. Needless to say, not everyone had admired the way the Malfoy family had walked away from the war, the Dark Lord and their 'friends'. In hopes of bargaining for a lesser sentence, his parents were attempting to cooperate with the Ministry's investigation into the events of the previous years. Of course, while others were doing the same, the Malfoy's had been the ones who had walked away first. They were traitors and, just like the respect that his family's name earned him, it also graced him with that same title.

Upon spotting a group of younger students who were staring at him, Malfoy stopped and raised an eyebrow, silently daring them to go ahead. To say something. Anything. He hated the silence and the whispers. Instead, the group quickly looked away, ducking their heads in over the textbook they had previously been occupied with. Shaking his head, Draco continued back to his room.

There were fewer students than before. Out of those who had been involved, some were held for questioning, others were kept at home for their parents feared retaliation and others were...dead. Dead. Draco knew that he, too, would have been amongst the latter group if it hadn't been for Harry Potter and he hated that fact. While everyone knew about the rivalry between the two of them, it had stemmed more from jealousy than hatred for Draco. Potter had always been loved, admired and those who he called his friends had remained loyal to him. Draco did have loving parents, he knew that the loyalty of his friends depended on his family's status. It was not so much loyalty as fear, for he knew if he, too, had stood against the Dark Lord, they would have left him without a second thought. His friendships were nothing like the one shared between Granger, Potter and Weasley. On top of it all, Harry Potter had courage; a kind of courage that Draco had not been able to have. Potter had stood up in the face of fear, refusing to back down and risking his life for what he held dear, while Draco had submitted to it, cowering behind beliefs that he did not hold in hopes of surviving. For that, he would never forgive himself.

Once he had made it to his room, Draco let his weight fall back against the door to force it shut. His room provided some sanctuary from his peers. The Slytherin house was no longer a home to him. It no longer held any sort of warmth, but like the mark on his arm, it proved to be a constant reminder of his failures in the past. Even the presence of a few of his 'associates', as he preferred to call them, did not bring him much comfort. Pansy and Blaise, who had returned for their last year, only seemed to remind him of everything that had been.

Pushing himself off of the door, he quietly made his way towards the bed, stepping out of his shoes on the way. He didn't bother changing his clothes, simply falling onto the mattress and letting his face disappear into the pillow for a moment. Letting out a deep breath, he rolled onto his back as he stared up at the dark ceiling. He had survived another day. One day at a time. Today was done, tomorrow would come.

Tomorrow. The promise of what it would bring lingered in his mind, and brought the faintest trace of a smile to his lips as he fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione Granger felt like an imposter.

Since her return to Hogwarts, she felt as if she were only playing a part – acting the way people wanted her to, the way they expected her to She was playing the part of her former self – the bushy haired girl who cared about grades and rules and who thrived in the classroom.

She was no longer that girl.

Some of the classes she took seemed almost trivial when she thought about the events of the past couple of years. While she still sat at front, diligently took notes and completed homework on time, she no longer held the same enthusiasm as she used to. Her hand did not shoot up first to answer the question. It didn't stimulate and challenge her the way that it once had. Very little did.

Then again, when you're fighting on the front lines of a war with the greatest evil ever known, it was hard to get an adrenaline rush sitting in a desk, having a teacher lecture at you for the entire dy.

Hermione had been craving the excitement and rush that she used to feel for life. Granted, she didn't miss the lingering threat of death that had hung over her close group. Two years ago, the knowledge that she would be head group would have put her through the roof. She would have thrown herself fully into the task ahead of her and gone above and beyond what was required of her. When she had been presented with the honor, she had hoped that she would feel what she had, once upon a time, imagined it would give her. That it would help her come the girl she used to be. It didn't. There was no rush.

Until he came along.

Draco Malfoy. For years she had despised him and his family and all that they had stood for. She would fume when he looked down on her, presenting himself as God's gift to the wizarding world. She had made it a point to outdo him whenever possible, just to see the angry look on his face when he realized that he had been outdone by a mudblood, the lowest of the low in his opinion. Now, instead of wanting to constantly put him in his place, she just wanted him.

Never in a million years would Hermione Granger have thought that Draco Malfoy would provide her with what she craved most. It was as if the world had turned upside down…and maybe that was exactly what she needed.

With one last touch of her fingertips to her lips, Hermione let out a deep breath and quickened her pace to catch up with the figure walking ahead of her. She quickly forced a smile when Neville turned towards her loudening footsteps, raising a hand to give him a quick wave.

"Hey, Hermione," he greeted, stopping as he waited for her to catch up. "I thought I lost you."

Shaking her head, Hermione came to a stop beside him. "Sorry, Neville," she apologized. The guilt for the side-track was there, but the desire to be back in the dark corridor seemed to be stifling it. "I thought I heard the third years sneaking around again."

With a nod and a warm smile, Neville motioned for them to continue on. Hermione dutifully followed, stealing a glance back down the hall in hopes of catching a glimpse of Draco.

All she saw was the empty hallway.


	5. Chapter 5

PLATFORM 9 ¾ ; BEGINNING OF THE SCHOOL YEAR

Draco Malfoy stood stiffly on the platform, waiting patiently to board the train. He was alone. For the first time since his first year, he stood on the platform alone. No parents, no 'minions' as he had considered them. Just him. He was surprised at how lonely it all felt. While Draco had held his friendships very high, he had not realized just how empty it all seemed when there was no one to share it with. Right now, he found himself wishing for nothing more than a fellow housemate making some lame joke about a Hufflepuff walking by, or a comment declaring the superiority of the Slytherin house above all others. It would all be noise, but at least it would be familiar.

He spotted a face that he recognized – a sixth year, if he recalled. Well, maybe seventh now. Given the mess that the past year had been, he wasn't quite sure who would be where. The younger man gave Draco a short nod as he passed, and he returned the greeting out of habit. At least he recognized someone. It hadn't been difficult to realize that a majority of parents, and even students, were glancing back at him. He was a Malfoy, and it wasn't difficult to spot that. Needless to say, his name was well known these days.

Taking a deep breath, Draco silently prayed that boarding would start soon, before he regretted his decision to return. To be honest, his desire to go back was fuelled only by the desperation to get out of the large, empty mansion that he now lived in alone. The house elves were not exactly fond of him, given years of abuse, and the silence had grown to be rather haunting. At least Hogwarts would get rid of the quiet. He couldn't take it anymore, especially when there was no end in sight. He hadn't a clue when his parents would be released from the custody of the ministry, but whenever it was, it had been too far away. He had to get out of that house.

When the doors finally opened, Draco wasted no time boarding the train, stealing one last glance at all the parents who were wishing their children off. Shaking his head, he quickly stopped himself from going down that path and instead focused on finding himself a seat.

As he spotted an empty compartment, he ducked in quickly and settled down. He looked for a familiar face amongst the people who passed his cart, all looking in but not stopping. There were faint whispers between friends as they passed him and Draco realized quickly that the whispers were about him. The actions of his parents and himself had managed to land them squarely where no one wanted to be: with no side. To the so-called 'good guys', he would always be a former death eater. To those with whom he'd shared that 'honor', he was a traitor. He didn't belong. Neither side seemed willing to reach out to him at the moment.

Instead of escaping from his loneliness, Draco realized that he had just made it worse. Not only was he still alone, but he had created an audience for himself. He was in his own private fishbowl. He could look out, they could all look in, but he was still sitting there. In silence.

Forcing himself to turn his head to look out the window, he watched people shuffling around, making sure they had everything for the trip. There were so many unfamiliar faces, students that he had hardly paid attention to. In fact, he dared to say that he couldn't spot a single person he knew. At least, not until he noted a familiar head of brown, bushy hair turning frantically around…


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione Granger stood anxiously by the train, craning her head in hopes of spotting her two friends. She prayed that they would hurry, the train would have to leave soon and she didn't want to go without saying goodbye.

"Hermione!" The familiar voice of Ginny Weasley caught her attention and Hermione spun around to be greeted by the familiar red head and her best friend pushing towards her through the crowd.

"Harry, Ginny! Finally. I was afraid you wouldn't make it," Hermione admitted, wasting no time in wrapping her arms around Ginny in a tight hug. She didn't hesitate before greeting Harry in a similar manner.

"As if we would miss this," Harry laughed as his arms wrapped tightly around his friend. It had felt like forever since they had seen each other. While Hermione was well aware that Harry was busy helping the ministry sort everything out, she did miss the constant companionship that she had grown accustomed to. They may have been on the brink of death at every moment, but at least they had been together.

As she drew back, she glanced from Harry back to Ginny, her smile wavering for a moment when she realized that they were alone.

"He isn't coming, is he?" she questioned softly.

Both Ginny and Harry knew exactly who he was talking about. Ron Weasley, best friend, brother, former boyfriend. He was the one that was absent from this scene. Shaking his head, Harry was the one to answer. "Sorry, Hermione."

Ever the optimist, Ginny quickly pitched in. "Don't worry, he is going to come to his senses soon. He's just having hard time."

Hermione would have had a much easier time accepting this if Ginny had been using the same reassuring line for a majority of the summer. With a sad smile, Hermione nodded in acceptance of this fact. She had known that the chances of him coming were almost non-existent, but a part of her had stilled hoped that he would show up. That everything between them would go back to the way that it used to be.

It wouldn't though, she knew that. They had all been through entirely too much in the past years for things to go back. It was as if their innocence had been ripped from them, dying amongst all the bodies of their friends and loved ones that filled Hogwarts. Some things would never go back to the way that the used to be.

She had been so lost in her thoughts, that Hermione had barely registered the fact that the train would be leaving soon. Thankfully, her two friends were paying far more attention than she was – an obvious role reversal.

"You better write," Harry demanded as he pulled his best friend in for another hug. This one lasted longer than the initial, a comforting hand rubbing her back gently. His voice lowered as he whispered softly in her ear, "I'll always be here. And I'll see you soon."

Hermione's eyes shut tightly as she heard the words, nodding against his shoulder to confirm that she had understood. When Harry moved her to Ginny, she mumbled a quiet goodbye to her female friend before pulling back and putting on a big smile, though her eyes looked glassy as result of the tears that had filled up.

This was the first train ride she'd be taking alone since they became friends.

"Goodbye, guys. I'll see you at Christmas," Hermione assured with a nod as she took a few steps back until she reached the train. She turned to board it, hesitating as she looked back over her shoulder and waved towards the couple that waited for her.

She watched them through the windows she passed until she spotted someone she recognized – Neville. He probably didn't realize just how grateful she was to see him as she ducked into the compartment he sat in alone. "Can I join you?" she questioned, not waiting for an answer as she slipped into the seat across from him.

"Hermione!" The excitement in his voice matched what she was feeling, and she smiled at him. "Boy, am I glad to see you." Apparently she was not the only one who had been feeling a little alone.

Turning her head, Hermione caught a glimpse of Harry and Ginny as the train began to pull away. His arm was around her waist, and she was tucked perfectly into his side. They looked happy. It was obvious by the way they looked at each other. She and Ron used to look at each other like that.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco could not manage to muster up even the smallest bit of faked enthusiasm as he had sat quietly in the Great Hall. McGonagall, the new headmistress of Hogwarts, welcomed the students and proceeded with sorting the first years, introducing the new professors and general announcements, including the appointments of Head Girl and Head Boy. Had anyone been surprised at the appointment of Hermione Granger as Head Girl, Draco would have doubted that the individual would have enough intelligence to be allowed to hold a wand. It all seemed so predictable, so orderly, so…as it should be. As if nothing had ever happened. He knew the sense of calm and familiarity was due to the fact that people had wanted to get on with their lives, to forget about the tragedies that had taken place less than six months ago, but it didn't lessen the resentment. Everything was different and the lack of acknowledgment seemed to only infuriate him further.

Despite the fact that he was seated at the center of the table, surrounded by the seventh years (both those who had returned to complete their seventh year (like him) and those who had previously been a year below him), Draco found himself overwhelmed by a feeling of isolation. He was well aware of the whispers of the others, the glances in his direction, and while this had, in previous years, made him feel important, valued, as though he were better than others, now it only seemed to further push him away from his peers. Other than a catching Zabini's gaze for a brief moment, and a nod of acknowledgment from Parkinson, his interaction with the others at his table had been nonexistent. He felt more like a museum artifact than a human being – to be stared at in awe (or horror), but never touched. Draco was no longer basking in the glory of being a topic of discussion, mostly due to the fact that it was no longer his good looks or family fortune that made him popular, but his Death Eater status and the pureblood traitors that raised him.

Never in his life had Draco Malfoy wanted to be part of the crowd as much as he did at that moment. He wanted to once again be sitting between his friends, making fun of Goyle, taunting the younger student. Anything that would even resemble the feeling of belonging that he had felt in his 'old life'. That was what it was, after all, his old life. A life he would not be able to return to any time soon.

At the first chance he had gotten, Draco had left the Great Hall without even a second thought. He could not just sit there, pretend to be happy and ignore the whispers and pointed looks in his direction. There was no desire to tease, taunt or torment. The only desire he had was to get out, and get out quickly, for this feeling of isolation was far worse than what he felt at the manor. This feeling could no longer be blamed by the lack of company, by the lack of human beings. Draco had thought that being around a group of people would drag him out of his solitude and misery, but the day had only proved to make it all that much worse.

The only thing worse than feeling alone in an empty house was feeling alone in a crowd.

With practically the entire population of Hogwarts in the Great Hall, Draco found himself wandering the empty halls with nothing to fear. After all, there wasn't anything to fear anymore, was there? It almost seemed as though the year, despite only starting, lacked purpose. He was not excited for anything, he wasn't even dreading anything. If anything, he felt empty. Without hesitation, Draco began to walk. Through the halls and down the corridors to the only place where he might find some peace.

Maybe there he would feel something.

**A/N: **I know this chapter isn't all that interesting, but I'm having a bit of a block in regards to what direction I want this story to go to. Any reviews, ideas or suggestions would be more than appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

Being Head Girl was not at all what Hermione had dreamed it would be. Then again, the dreams she based them on were those of a naïve little girl, who had held academic accomplishment above all else. Silly little girl. Hadn't she known that life was far more complicated than that? Wasn't she aware that the ability to deduct points was not the highest honor? Of course she hadn't – for at the time, she had been a mere child, striving to stand out and prove herself to anyone who dared doubt her. Now though, while still young, Hermione Granger was well aware of the fact that school was not what mattered most. The academic world no longer stimulated her the way that it used to. Being honored by the position of Head Girl did not excite her the way that she had once dreamed that it would. And it gave her no pleasure to deduct points from the two Slytherin third years that were currently marching past her with sheepish looks, as they had just gotten caught making out in a broom closet.

Releasing a soft sigh, Hermione shut the door that had previously occupied the two offenders and with a shake of her head, wander the halls to look out for any others who attempted to sneak out past curfew. While she was physically there, her mind was elsewhere. In fact, there would have been a good chance she wouldn't have even caught the Slytherin couple if they hadn't been about as quiet as a bull in a china shop. She worked on auto pilot, making her way through the halls as she was required to.

"It seems a bit ridiculous," she mumbled under her breath to herself, her wand absently dangling from her fingers. "To go from waiting for Voldemort to jump out around any corner to trying to hunt down teenagers that can't keep their hormones under control." With a shake of her head, she took a deep breath as she turned the corner and stopped quickly in her spot. Despite the darkness of the halls, she could make out a cloaked figure turning another corner in front of her.

With a furrowed brow, Hermione quickly followed the figure. The frame had been too large to be one of the younger students and he had been alone. Suspicious. Her wand was no longer dangling on her side, but tightly gripped in her hand, pointing out in front of her as she peered the corner and spotted the figure again. Without wanting to alert it to her presence, she quietly made her way after the dark figure.

Thousands of thoughts raced through her head as she made her way through the halls of Hogwarts. Voldemort was gone, Hogwarts was safe, who or what would be roaming the halls of Hogwarts at this hour? Surely the students knew better. Her mind flashed through so many scenarios in the short time that she barely realized that she was climbing the steps towards the astronomy tower. Her lips tightened in a firm line as she slowly listened for the faint footsteps in front of her, stopping at the top of the stairs and not daring to turn the corner just yet.

Hermione closed her eyes and listened for some movement, any movement, anything that could give away the location of the person sneaking around Hogwarts at this hour. But there was nothing. Silence. Just silence. With her wand held up against her chest, she counted to three slowly before she quickly turned the corner, and extended her arm so her wand was pointed straight out in the direction that the intruder would have gone. There were many things that Hermione could have expected to find around the corner, but the tip of the wand pointed directly in her face had caught her off guard.

So did the fact that the person at the other end of the wand was Draco Malfoy.


End file.
